What Kind of Friends Are You?
by stacieneversleeps
Summary: Sam's not the sharpest crayon in the box, but when when he finally realises how the other guys treat Kurt, he doesn't let them get away with it. Kurt's everything to him. He isn't about to let some assholes hurt his baby.


**Title:** What Kind Of Friends Are You?

**Characters:** Sam, Kurt, New Directions, Mr Schue

**Pairing: **Sam/Kurt

**Word Count:** 7411 (total)

**Warnings:** Slash, swearing, homophobic language, non-explicit violence

**Spoilers:** Up to and including Audition

**Summary: **Sam's not the sharpest crayon in the box, but when when he finally realises how the other guys treat Kurt, he doesn't let them get away with it. Kurt's everything to him. He isn't about to let some assholes hurt his baby.

**A/N:** Unbeta'd, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

* * *

He's liked Kurt since the first time he sees the Cheerios practising at the other end of the field when he's at football practise during the first week of school. The other boy has legs that go on forever, perfectly curved hips, and an ass to absolutely fucking _die_ for. At first, it's just an attraction, but then he spends a bit of time with the other boy through Finn, and decides that it's a fully-fledged crush that ain't going away any time soon.

(Sam's sorta known that he's gay since he was thirteen, and saw the second _Pirates of the Caribbean_ film, and got a crush on Johnny Depp, not Keira Knightley like his friends. He tried to deny it at first, dating girls and stuff, but it didn't work – _at all_. It takes him almost four years to accept the fact, but he does. _Eventually_.)

When he finally decides to stop being such a pussy and admit that he's gay, it doesn't take long the shit to hit the fan, and the other jocks – well, the majority of them – to go into uproar, demanding that he quits as quarterback.

(Okay, it isn't so much that he admits it, more like he's caught checking Kurt out when the boy's practising on the field at the end of September. He can't even chalk it up to his looking at the girls, because Kurt's doing the whole routine by himself – and flawlessly at that.)

He refuses, not willing to back down from his position, and they go into full attack mode. They slushy him and shoulder-check him into lockers and shout abuse at him in the corridor. (At one point, it's more likely for someone to call him 'fag' or 'homo' or 'fairy' than his actual name.)

* * *

It isn't until the Glee kids decide to forgive him for skipping their auditions for the sake of his reputation, and start sticking up for him, that things begin to look up.

It's Kurt who really steps up to the plate. Sam's been cornered in the hallway, just outside his French class, by Azimio and Karofsky, who are, by far, the worst of the jocks. Azimio's hand's holding on to his collar, pinning him up against the wall with it, while Karofsky rants on about how 'fags like [Sam] are ruining the world'.

Kurt comes sashaying up, catching both of the jocks' attention. The two turn to stare at Kurt, about to turn their anger on him, when Kurt suddenly lets out this incredible high-kick (which, Sam will never admit to having watched dozens of times on YouTube, fascinated by the move during Kurt's post-Nationals interview) right into Karofsky's groin. The brute collapses into a heap on the floor, hands cupping his privates, and Kurt repeats the action on Azimio, who's too stunned to even move. Kurt links arms with Sam, who's also too stunned to move, and leads him away from the two prone forms.

"_So, Sam," _he says, eyes twinkling innocently as if he hadn't just – possibly, probably – prevented those two from ever reproducing, which, Sam reflects, might be a good thing. _"Are you going to join Glee, now?"_ And, really, how can he say no to that?

* * *

So he joins Glee, which serves two fantastic purposes. One, it gets him the protection of all eleven other members of the club, and two, it allows him to spend more time with Kurt, who's even better looking close up.

Puck threatens to 'beat the shit out of them' if they continue picking on Sam. (_"These guns?"_ He says, flexing his arms, much to the joy of the group of Cheerios standing nearby. _"They're not just for show. Do you want to get intimately acquainted with them and my fists? Puckosaurus don't take no prisoners."_) His warning sends the jocks running, and Sam can't thank him enough. Until, that is, Puck begs him to stop. Says that it's ruining his reputation. He might not have a problem with gays, but he does have a problem with people thinking _he's_ gay.

Artie rams into a couple of guys with his chair, and Mike and Finn take to hovering not far behind him in the hallways between classes, on the lookout for slushy cups and menacing jocks. Rachel's threatening Figgins and Beiste with the ACLU if they don't get control of the jocks, and Mercedes and Quinn like taking care of him if he does get a slushy to the face or shoved against the lockers or whatever. Santana just glares at the jocks angrily, pointing her long nails at them in a threatening manner, with Brittany following not far behind.

They're good people, New Directions. A bit weird, but good.

* * *

He doesn't really remember how it happens, but one minute, he and Kurt are practising a number for their latest Glee assignment, and the next, he has a lap full of Kurt Hummel, who's lips are pressed up against his, kissing him with more passion and want that Sam knows that it's possible for one person to possess.

He isn't complaining, though.

His boy is _fine._

* * *

Kurt's turned sideways in his seat, legs stretched across Sam's lap. Sam's right hand is gripping Kurt's far knee gently, holding him in place, while his left plays with the garter on his boyfriend's smooth, pale right thigh. The cheerleading spirit garter, made especially for Homecoming, looks fucking beautiful against Kurt's leg, and Sam adores it.

(Sam has never been so happy in his life that Sylvester's fucking mental. She's got some crazy idea into her head that it would look better if Kurt wears the garter on his let instead of on his arm like the other boys. Apparently, it separates Kurt from the other male cheerleaders, and identifies Kurt as important when people see him. Sam doesn't get it, but he likes the shorts Kurt has to wear so that the garter's on show.)

"You have no idea how hot this looks, baby," Sam mutters into Kurt's ear, enjoying the way Kurt giggles and ducks his head. He slips a finger under the garter, and runs it around the inside, stretching it, before letting it snap back into place. Kurt shivers as the elastic snaps against his skin.

The red garter is about an inch and a half thick, with white lace trimming around the bottom. There's a black bow attached to the side of it, with two thicker bits of white ribbon hanging from the centre of it. '_Homecoming_' is scrawled on one bit of white ribbon, and the other says, '_Sam and Kurt_,' which always makes Sam a bit tingly inside when he sees it. Three little silver charms hang from the centre of the bow. One that says '_2010_', a football with '_quarterback_' engraved on the front, and a little cheerleader figurine.

The people at Sam's old school wore mums, but, according to Kurt, they are totally tacky. Coach Sylvester agrees, and she has the garters specially made, personalised for each Cheerio. Each cheerleader wears one, and their Homecoming Dance date wears one on his arm. Sam's is wrapped around his right biceps, following the sleeve of his McKinley High tee.

Most of the team are wearing one, too, and all of the Glee football players have one. Puck's got Santana's. Artie's been given Brittany's. Finn's wearing Becky's. Tina's letting Mike have Quinn's. They're all the same as Kurt's (and the rest of the Cheerios), except thinner, with less lace. His is special, though. Along with the '_2010_' charm and the football charm, his has a silver star with the words '_Head Cheerio_' etched onto the surface. He wears it proudly.

"I think I do," Kurt tells him, smirking up at him. "You've been playing with it all day."

Sam laughs, chest rumbling, and presses a kiss to Kurt's cheek. Kurt turns his head, stretching his neck slightly, and kisses Sam on the lips. Sam's left hand moves to Kurt's waist, steadying the boy, while his other hand stays on Kurt's knee. He swipes his tongue along Kurt's bottom lip, and Kurt opens his mouth, allowing Sam's tongue inside. There's nothing demanding or forceful about the kiss. It's slow and gentle and loving.

Someone clears their throat from across the room, and they see Rachel watching them, the look on her face screaming unimpressed. Kurt stares back, one eyebrow arched, while Sam plays with the garter some more. Rachel turns away after a few seconds, muttering about them not paying any attention to her '_valuable contributions to the club_'. Kurt scoffs, covering up the noise with a cough when Rachel turns back around, and he hides his face against Sam's chest.

"So," Sam begins, when Rachel and Finn have begun their latest stomach turning love song. "You coming on Saturday night?"

Kurt looks up at him, a frown on his face. "What?"

"Oh, there's going to be a guy's night at your place," Sam tells him, hand rubbing circles on Kurt's thigh. "Finn organised it, to help us relax before Homecoming Week. Didn't he mention it?"

Kurt tenses, but Sam knows that that's just because he's thinking of the mess they'll make of his basement, which is where the video game system is. Kurt turns his head, looking in Finn's direction, and Sam can't see the expression on his face. When he answers with, "No, he didn't," Sam assumes that he's frowning. Kurt continues, "I can't come, sorry."

"Why not?"

Kurt looks over to the other side of the room, and Sam sees Santana look up, as if feeling Kurt's eyes on her. "Santana, Brit and I are practising for the pep rally and the game." He raises his voice, speaking directly to Santana over the sound from the piano, "We're still on for Saturday, yes?"

Santana's eyes narrow, but she nods. "Sure, Kurt. We'll do it at Brit's place."

Kurt lets out a sigh, and Sam assumes that Kurt's just happy that he can still practise. He knows how Kurt gets about practising. He's a little obsessed. "Sorry, love," he says apologetically. "We'll do it another time, okay?"

Sam's upset that Kurt can't make it, but he can't expect Kurt to spend all of his time with him, so he smiles, and presses another kiss to Kurt's cheek. "Of course. We're still on for the dance on Friday, yeah?"

"You think I'd miss Homecoming?" Kurt asks with a laugh. "Don't be silly. For one, I'm the Head Cheerio, so I can't miss it. However, it's also our first dance together. I'll be there, love. Don't worry."

Sam grins, and they kiss again, ignoring Rachel's huff as she finishes her song and finds them ignoring her, and the faux puking noises Puck and Mike and Artie are making.

* * *

Homecoming's been and gone, a blur of costumes, face paint, and school spirit. The Homecoming dance is amazing, and the King and Queen are two seniors, a football player and the class president (who, amazingly enough, is not a Cheerio). Santana and Brittany are crowned as Homecoming Princesses, while Sam and Kurt are Homecoming Princes. Kurt and Sam dance with the girls during the required song, but spend the rest of the night in each others arms. Surprisingly, no one bothers them.

(According to Rachel, with the exception of the jocks, everyone else in the school voted for them. She tells them that Kurt's some sort of champion for the nerds and losers, because he used to be one of them, but now he's penthouse suite, and Sam's part of the package.)

* * *

They're back in Glee – the auditorium this time, not the choir room – Kurt tucked securely under Sam's arm, watching Mercedes belt out some Aretha Franklin number.

Sectionals is in just under two weeks time, and they're trying to chose the ballad. Rachel wants it, Mercedes wants it, Kurt wants it... hell, even Quinn wants it. Mr Schue's allowing everyone who wants it to audition for it, saying that he wants the best.

Rachel's already sung some Barbra Steisand song, staring right into Finn's glazed eyes, and Quinn did Kelly Clarkson's _Breakaway_. Artie did some depressing 80s song, deliberately not looking at Tina, who followed him with a slightly less depressing, but equally as emotive, rendition of _Wish I Were Here_, a song from some musical.

Kurt's up next, and the boy's vibrating with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Sam tightens his arm around Kurt's shoulders slightly, squeezing him comfortingly, and he's rewarded with a bright smile.

When Mercedes finishes, Mr Schue announces Kurt's name, and the boy all but runs onto the stage, much to the amusement of hie friends, who laugh – or giggle, in Brittany and Tina's cases – fondly at him. Sam doesn't. He's too busy watching that ass in those tight jeans to notice anything else.

The music starts, and Sam watches as Kurt dives into the song head first. He can tell that Kurt's not holding anything back, just like Kurt said he wouldn't – "_I'm not g__oing to worry about what anyone else thinks,"_ Kurt had promised him, _"This is _my_ turn." _Sam had told him to go for it, that he knew Kurt would ace it, and had been rewarded by a very hot and heavy make out session, despite Burt being upstairs. (The man likes him, but he knows that if he caught Sam getting touchy feel with his son, he'd probably break out that shot gun he threatened Sam with after their first date.)

Kurt's voice is soft and light as it begins, but as the song progresses it gains an edge of anger and darkness and power to it, giving the song a whole other dimension. Sam's never heard anything quite like it, and think that, despite his obvious bias, Kurt's version is better than all of the other Broadway versions Kurt forced him to watch on YouTube. There's just something different about it – something special, something _real_ – that sets his apart from the other versions.

As he hits the third verse, Kurt's voice turns hard and the anger's more obvious, and the whole things sends chills down Sam's spine. The volume of his voice increases until he's only just singing, on the verge of shouting, but he manages to keep the hauntingly beautiful quality. How the fuck does he do that? Singing the final line of the verse, he bows, and Sam only notices Kurt wiping at his face when he does so because he pays so much attention to his boyfriend. Sam's going to have to ask Kurt about this song. What happened that made him so affected by the lyrics?

Sam isn't the only one who jumps when Kurt suddenly bursts into movement, prancing gracefully across the stage as he sings the final verse. It's obvious to those watching him that he's a dancer – the elegant, precise steps are effortless and graceful.

On the final 'for me', Kurt's voice soars, going higher and higher, his arms thrown in the air, and then he's silent, breathing heavily, and staring out into the audience unblinkingly.

The room falls eerily silent for no more than thirty seconds, until every single person is on their feet, clapping and cheering and whistling. Kurt lets out a breath, smiles gently, and thanks the band breathlessly, before heading back to join him. Sam kisses his boyfriend proudly, earning wolf whistles and cat calls from their friends.

Kurt settles back into his seat, and they sit through the rest of the lesson, which is comprised of only one more song – Finn with Oasis' _Wonderwall_. Sam doesn't pay much attention to the song. Kurt's sitting in his lap – which was entirely Sam's own fault for pulling him down into it – and he's really distracting, that fantastic ass pressed tight up against Sam's groin.

After everyone's handed in their voting slips, and while Mr Schue's busy counting them, Sam turns to Kurt to murmur, "Are you coming to Puck's next Friday? For a pre-Sectionals night of video games and pizza?"

Kurt tenses again – at the thought of the calories in pizza, probably – and opens his mouth to reply, his eyes looking over Sam's shoulder at the other guys. Sam's eyes follow and he sees Finn and Puck laughing at Artie, who's ducking his head and blushing. Mike's smirking a couple of seats down, pretending not the be a part of their shenanigans.

He's interrupted by Mr Schue speaking first though. "Okay, guys, our ballad is going to be..."

Finn starts beating out a drum roll on his thighs, and soon, Mike, Artie and Puck join him. Mercedes and Tina are next to do it, followed by Quinn, Brittany and a very reluctant Santana. Rachel doesn't join in, instead choosing to look at the rest disapprovingly. Sam can't because Kurt's in his lap, while Kurt does it on the arm of the chair, as Sam's hands are in the way on his lap.

"Kurt singing _Rose's Turn_."

Kurt tenses further, while the rest of the group – including a sour-looking Rachel – clap wildly, whistling and cheering for Kurt. Sam holds his breath until Kurt beams widely, and begins thanking people sincerely. He looks like he's about to cry, and Sam just hugs him tighter.

Soon, Mr Schue's back talking about Sectionals, and Sam turns to Kurt for his answer.

"I can't," Kurt says apologetically, shaking his head and smiling tightly. "Me and the girls are going to be practising for Sectionals at mine. The plan was to practise the ballad if one of us got it, so my dad will probably go made because he'll have to listen to _Rose's Tur__n_ that much." Kurt laughs nervously, looking up at Sam from under his lashes.

"It's alright, baby," Sam assures him, but he thinks it's a bit weird that Kurt's always busy on the guys' nights. It's probably just a coincidence, though. It's only been twice... "Another time, yeah?"

Kurt nods, and lays his head on Sam's shoulder, letting out a breath against the hollow of Sam's neck.

* * *

It isn't a surprise when they win Sectionals. Kurt blows the audience away when he belts out _Rose's Turn_ on the empty stage, and they impress the judges with their renditions of _Here I Go Again_ (the Rock of Ages version, not the original) and _Take A Chance On Me_. Rachel gets a lead in the ABBA number, but no one says anything, because they all know how much she had wanted to do the ballad.

(She says that she's fine with it, but Finn tells them later that she cried the night Kurt beat them all – _her_ – in the ballad auditions.)

* * *

Thanksgiving passes, and soon the winter holidays – which they can't call the Christmas holidays as it's discriminatory – are upon them. Sam decides that winter is his favourite season, as he loves the bright splotches of pink on Kurt's cheeks after he's been out in the cold. Kurt wraps up warm in thick knitted jumpers and scarfs and hats, with his thousand dollar boots – made by John somebody or other – and the cutest grey earmuffs ever. Sam thinks that winter-Kurt is probably the most beautiful little thing he's seen in his life.

"Good morning," Kurt beams, breezing past Sam. He grabs Sam's hand on the way past, and drags the blond behind him. Sam doesn't know how Kurt – who's tall, but ever so slim – can drag him, when he's a fucking football player, but he can, and Sam's pulled along the hallway by his cheerful boyfriend.

"Morning, baby," Sam grins, when they come to a stop in front of Kurt's locker. He presses a gentle kiss to Kurt's lips, and whispers, "Looking good," against them.

He enjoys watching Kurt shiver from the feel of his hot breath against his cold skin. It travels through Kurt, from his boot clad feet to his ear-muff clad ears, and the smaller boy blushes when he notices that Sam saw the shiver.

"Stop it," Kurt insists, smacking Sam gently on the arm.

Sam just winks, and that makes Kurt blush more. He sticks his tongue out at Sam, and tilts his chin up defiantly, trying not to look embarrassed.

"Morning, Kurt," Mercedes beams as she and Tina sidle up to join them.

Kurt untangles himself from Sam's arms, and kisses Mercedes on the cheek, before repeating the action with Tina. "Good morning, Mercedes, Tee. Nice top, Mercedes. And I love that necklace, Tina."

"Thanks," Tina smiles, and Sam feels bad for still finding that weird after all this time. He expects her to be moody and depressing because of the clothes, but she's totally the opposite – happy and cheerful and bubbly.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Sam asks Kurt, when the two girls start chatting away amongst themselves at Mercedes locker, which is a few doors up. "Because Artie's organising a night at the bowling alley for the guys. We usually do video games, but even that gets old after a while."

Kurt doesn't reply for a few seconds, but Sam assumes that's only because he's busy looking for something in his locker. He pulls his head out and glances over at Mercedes, who's turned to look at them. The girl nods, and Kurt looks up at Sam.

"I can't, love," he says softly, reaching for Sam's hand and threading his fingers through his boyfriend's. "Mercedes and I are driving up to Cleveland. It's my cousin's birthday, and she's having a party."

Sam knows that he shouldn't feel jealous of his boyfriend's best friend, but he does. Why is Mercedes going to the party and not him? He knows that Kurt isn't embarrassed by him, because they're public, and everyone, including their families, knows about their relationship. He just doesn't get why it's Mercedes who gets to go. He isn't going to say anything though.

"Why's Mercedes going?" Okay, maybe he is. His brain-to-mouth filter is clearly broken or something. Damn his stupid big mouth.

Kurt's eyes soften – and it's only then that Sam realises that Kurt had put his defences up – and he smiles gently at Sam. "Mercedes and I stayed with her when we went to see Lady Gaga in July, so she knows Mercedes and actually invited her, not just to keep me company. I would have asked you, but we're going to a spa, sweetie. It's not exactly your kind of thing, is it?"

Sam realises that he's been an idiot and grins at Kurt, who lets out a breath and smiles back. "No, it's not. Sorry."

"No problem," Kurt assures him, giving his hand a squeeze. "We're still on for dinner on Thursday night, yes?"

"Of course we are," Sam nods, squeezing back, and resting his forehead against Kurt's. "My mom's super excited to have you over again. I swear, sometimes, I think she loves you more than me!"

"Who doesn't love me?" Kurt's beaming as he says it, and he presses a kiss to Sam's lips, before he skips off to his AP English Lit class.

Sam watches him go, and it's only after Kurt's disappeared around the corner that Sam realises that this is the sixth time Kurt's skipped out on a guy's night. The pre-Homecoming one, then the pre-Sectionals one, and the post-Sectionals one. Then there was the one for Artie's birthday, and the one when Mike's parents were out for the weekend, and now the pre-Christmas one.

Kurt's not embarrassed. He _knows_ that. But he wonders why Kurt keeps missing the get-togethers. Sure, he could just be genuinely busy on the nights they pick. However, Sam thinks that the odds of that are extremely low.

Finn is basically Kurt's brother. Artie's been friends with Kurt since they were little. Mike's part of the group Kurt tutors in French. Puck, well, he used to bully Kurt – pretty badly from what Sam's heard – but, as far as he can tell, they're friends now.

Why doesn't he want to hang about with them?

* * *

Christmas is over and done with before any of them really register that it's begun. It's a nauseating whirl of mulled wine, fig rolls and eggnog. They spend most days together as a group, when they don't have family commitments. Burt lets them use the Hummel house, and Santana's dad lets them use his house, too.

(It isn't hard to notice the tension in the group. The Hummel house and the Lopez house are both situated in the most affluent area of town, and people like Puck and Artie, who come from more working class backgrounds, seem to be particularly angry towards the two upper middle class kids.)

* * *

Kurt's standing at his locker when Sam enters the hallway from the main entrance. The boy's wearing skin tight jeans and a pale blue blazer. Sam can just see the white collar of his shirt peeking over the blazer. His hips are shaking gently, side to side, and Sam assumes that he's listening to his iPod.

Sam sneaks up behind Kurt, and wraps his arms around his waist, hands locking on Kurt's stomach to hold Kurt in place.

"Morning, Cheerio," he whispers, kissing Kurt on the side of his neck. Kurt ducking his head, but instead of stopping Sam like Sam knows he's trying to, he just gives the blond more room to work with on the back of his neck. Sam puts it to good use, pressing a few more kisses to it.

When Sam finally lets go, Kurt spins around, his eyes in full death-glare mode, and his hands on his hips. Sam's pretty sure that Kurt doesn't realise how freaking hot he looks like that, all worked up and annoyed.

"Sam..." Kurt begins huffily. "We've discussed this!"

Sam hums in agreement, interlocking his fingers with Kurt and grinning crookedly at him. He knows that Kurt can't resist him when he smiles, so when Kurt folds and smiles back, he isn't surprised.

"How'd you do on your French test?" Kurt asks, as he turns back around and fixes his hair in the mirror.

"J'ai eu un 'B' à mon examen de Français," Sam replies, his accent a bit _too_ heavy, a bit _too_ crappy-TV-show.

Kurt's face lights up in a bright, almost blinding, smile, and he's all misty-eyed, his pride shining through. His arms wrap around Sam's shoulders tightly, kissing him gently, and whispering congratulations. Sam snakes his arms around Kurt's waist in turn, and they stand like that, all wrapped up in each other, for a while.

"I love you," Sam murmurs against Kurt's cheek.

Kurt sighs gently, leaning into Sam's lips. "Je t'aime, aussi. _Beauc__oup_."

The bell rings for next period, and they reluctantly separate. They've got different classes: Kurt's in AP Physics; and Sam's in English Lit. They need to go to class, as much as they'd rather spend the period with one another.

"Are you busy tomorrow night?" Sam asks, just before Kurt heads off. The corridor's empty, and so they're late, but he needs to ask Kurt before he forgets.

"Why?" The brunette asks.

"We're having a guys' night," Sam says, and he isn't going to lie and say he doesn't notice the way Kurt's face closes off at the mere mention of the plan. "We're gonna go to the movies, see if we can catch a horror film or something."

"I can't..."

Sam doesn't give Kurt a chance to finish. He is just sick to his back teeth of Kurt ditching him and the other guys for the girls. He might prefer the company of the girls, but that doesn't mean that he has to spend all of his time with them. They only want one night every so often.

"What the _fuck_?" He yells angrily, slamming his hand into one of the lockers. "Why do you refuse to spend time with us?"

"What?" Kurt asks. "I don't know what you..."

"Don't bullshit me, Kurt," Sam tells him through gritted teeth. "Every time I tell you about a guys' night, you blow us off."

Kurt's silent, staring at Sam in confusion and anger and... hurt. Sam knows that he should stop. He's upsetting his boyfriend. But he just can't. He needs to know why Kurt won't spend time with them.

"You didn't come and play video games with us," Sam continues, voice loud and angry. He really shouldn't be shouting at Kurt, but he can't help it."Instead, you danced with Brit and Santana, and then you had all the girls over. You missed the next one because you simply could _not_ miss that show in Columbus, which you were going to see with _Rachel_. You missed the one for Artie's birthday because you _had_ to go with your dad to Cleveland to see your Great Aunt. Then there was the one at Mike's place, which you missed because you and Quinn were test driving a new car for her. You couldn't come to the pre-Christmas one because your cousin had a birthday party, which you didn't mention until the last minute. Then there was the one after New Year, which you missed for a shoe sale at the mall. Plus the one at your place which you didn't come to because you had to accompany Tina to the hair salon. Now, you're skipping out on another one."

When he's finished his little rant, Kurt's almost cowering against the lockers, eyes wide and filled with tears. Sam should stop. He should. He knows that Kurt hates shouting, hates fighting. He knows that he must sound like the asshole jocks who used to ruin Kurt's life, but he can't help himself.

"Why don't you want to spend time with us? What's so wrong with us? You're not embarrassed about me, because everyone knows we're together. Finn's your almost-step-brother. You're friends with the rest. What the fuck's wrong then?"

"What's wrong with you?" Kurt echoes, and he pulls himself up to his full height. "More like what's wrong with _me_!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asks, his anger replaced by confusion for the moment.

"It's not that I don't want to come, Sam," Kurt sneers, and Sam is taken aback, because he's never had that look directed at him before. "It's that I've never actually been invited."

"What? I _always_ invite you!"

"You might, but since none of the others ever mention it in my vicinity, even when it's in my own house, I'm going to assume that it's because they don't want me there." Kurt's voice is quiet, resigned, but Sam can hear the loneliness, the longing, in his voice. He can see it in his eyes, too, and it hurts to look at him.

"But..."

"I always thought that they didn't ask me because they were uncomfortable with me being gay," Kurt continues, without looking at Sam. His eyes are locked somewhere beyond Sam's left shoulder, and it's kind of unnerving. "But then you joined, and they invited you, even though you're out. It's obvious that they don't see me as a guy. I might be the best kicker they've ever seen, and I might have fixed the transmission on Puck's truck and I might have an incredible gaming system, with all the 'macho' games, but I'm not a guy to them."

"But.."

Sam's too shocked by Kurt's words, and his utter calmness as he speaks, to do or say anything.

"I know that I shouldn't let it get to me. I know that I'm lucky enough to have the girls. But, you know what? It still hurts. It really _fucking_ hurts, Sam."

Kurt's crying now, and it's the curse word that breaks Sam from his shock. Kurt never, ever curses. Kurt's already stepping away from him, past the lockers and into the middle of the hallway.

Sam reaches for his arm, but when he clasps the limb in his hand, Kurt jerks away, and hisses, "Let me go."

Sam does, shocked once again, and before he can do or say anything further, Kurt's gone. Sam doesn't know where and he knows that he should follow. He just can't. He's in shock.

* * *

Sam doesn't go to English. Instead, he holes himself up in the library, and tries to digest everything Kurt's just told him. He should have noticed it before. The way that Kurt was never mentioned, not when they were planning it, not at the actual thing. How they only had it at the Hummel place if they needed to.

And he should have noticed Kurt's reaction to the invitations. The tensing up. The frowning. The nervous laughter. The eyes flickering about nervously. The relieved sighs when the girls confirm their plans. The tight smiles. The hesitation. _Everything_.

He's always prided himself on the fact that, despite his dyslexia, he's relatively smart. Turns out, he's not. So much for being the sharpest jock the locker room.

He feels like a complete dickhead, though. What kind of boyfriend is he, if he doesn't notice that Kurt's been excluded for more than six months? He should have noticed all those months ago. Kurt shouldn't have had to go though all of that, and then have to explain it to his stupid-ass boyfriend. Sam's a stupid idiot and he's never felt guiltier in his life. How could he miss all of that?

He's not going to sit back and let them hurt Kurt anymore, though. They've only been together for just under seven months, but Sam's pretty sure Kurt's it for him. He's never felt anything like this for anyone before, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone upset _his_ man.

* * *

Sam can't help but punch Finn right in his stupid, goofy face as soon as he enters the choir room and sees the boy laughing and joking with Puck and Mike. He gets a few good hits in before he's dragged away by Puck, Mr Schue and Mike. The fact that it takes three of them to haul him off of Finn is something which he'll gloat about for the rest of his life.

"What's going on here?" Mr Schue asks, and Sam doesn't look at him, because he can just _tell_ that the man's got that disappointed, 'kicked puppy' look on his face, and he really fucking _hates_ that look.

"Why don't you ask Evans?" Puck suggests angrily. "He just stormed in here, and started hitting Finn for no reason. That is not cool, bro."

"No reason?" Sam hisses angrily, and before anyone can stop him, he's hitting Puck in the face, and hopefully, giving the asshole a black eye. It'll fucking serve him right.

Mike and Mr Schue pull him off, but Sam retreats willingly, not wanting to outright fight with Puck. If the rumours about Fight Club are true, it'll be disastrous for his health if they fight. Puck lunges at him, but he sidesteps easily, and stands with his back against the piano, glaring at Puck and Finn and Mike and even Mr Schue – he doesn't know why he's glaring at Mr Schue, but he is. He's just really annoyed, okay?

"Sam, c'mon, tell me what's going," Mr Schue urges softly, and Sam shrugs his shoulders. "Please?" His teacher asks, and that's his undoing. How pathetic is that? Being so unresisting in the face of manners?

"You know how we've been having these guys' night?" He asks, looking straight at, and speaking directly to, Mr Schue. The man nods, and Sam continues, "Well, Kurt never comes. He always comes up with these rubbish excuses, and I've been wondering why he doesn't want to spend time with us."

"So..." Mr Schue presses, when Sam falls silent.

"I confronted him this morning. Turns out, he's never actually been invited by anyone but me."

Mr Schue's frowning, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"He thought that they didn't invite him before 'cause they were uncomfortable because he's gay, but then I joined, and they were happy to enough to invite me along, even though I'm gay, too," Sam replies. "He thinks, and I kinda agree, that they don't see him as a guy."

"We... No..."

"Don't try and get out of this, Hudson," Sam yells charging at the big, stupid jackass. Mr Schue and Puck and Mike create a line in front of him, and he grinds to a halt. "You've done enough as it is. Or, I suppose, it's what you haven't done this time."

"It's not our fault that Hummel's too girly to spend time with us," Puck says, and that's it. Sam's gonna fucking _kill_ him! He growls, and raises his fist to punch to bastard.

"What in the name of Lady Gaga is going on here?" Kurt demands.

The girls are all standing behind him, and Sam inwardly snickers at the thought that they look somewhat like avenging angels. Mercedes and Quinn flank him on either side, glaring furiously at Puck. Mercedes looks like she's about to 'cut a bitch.' and Quinn isn't far behind that.

Santana and Brittany are behind them, and while Brittany's playing with her _WWMD_ band, Santana's scowling so hard that Sam's sure it must physically hurt. Rachel's face is turning red from what Sam assumes is anger, and Tina's got the same 'you will pay' look on her face as Mercedes.

Kurt's questioning is much more effective than Mr Schue's earlier attempt, and Sam folds immediately, telling Kurt what's going on. "I was just..."

Or, at least, he tries to tell Kurt. He only gets a few words out when Puck's fist crashes into his jaw. He's about to hit back, kick out, scream, do _something_, when Puck's suddenly lying on the ground, clutching his crotch. Kurt's standing in front of Sam, glaring angrily at the jock, hands on hips.

"Stay away from my boyfriend, you asshole," Kurt tells him. "I won't hesitate to do that again."

Puck grinds his teeth together, but doesn't say another word. He glares, still clutching his balls, and slowly gets to his feet. Sam sees Kurt's smug smile when Puck winces, and he grins.

"What's going on?" Kurt asks again, stepping back towards Sam, who wraps an arm around his waist.

With a glare at the other guys, he quickly whispers an explanation to Kurt, who frowns, but then smiles, and kisses Sam gently. "Thank you," he whispers against Sam's lips.

"Je t'aime," Sam replies.

Kurt turns back to the others, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder, and promises, "Et toi. Pour toujours, chéri."

"I thought you were good guys," Sam says quietly, after he's pressed a kiss against Kurt's forehead. "Decent guys. But you're just the same as the other assholes in the school. Even you, Artie."

"We didn't mean to." Finn's voice is almost a whine, and Sam feels Kurt wince at how pathetic the other boy sounds.

"You're basically his brother, Finn! You should know better. You've seen him fix cars and play video games with you and play football for the Titans. How can you not think he's a guy? How can you treat him like that? As if he's not good enough to spend time with you guys? You're supposed to care about him, Finn. You're supposed to be his family. Why can't you treat him like he deserves then?"

Finn lets out a breath, and slouches into a seat. "I just didn't... think about him."

"When do you ever?" Kurt mutters, but the room's silent, and everyone hears.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The only person you actually care about is yourself," Kurt replies, superior sneer in place. "Everyone thinks that Finn Hudson's some sort of epic god-like figure, full of kindness and compassion, but your an asshole. You treat Rachel like shit, even though she deserves better. You refuse to talk to Quinn, even though you've forgiven Puck, which is some kind of stupid, idiotic double standard. Let's not forget the fact that you moaned over losing a few solos last year, despite the fact that none of the rest of us get any in the first place."

"But..."

Kurt turns his head, refusing to look at Finn, and instead burying his head in Sam's chest. The tall boy sighs defeatedly.

"Sure, Kurt likes nice clothes and has a skin routine and goes for manicures with the girls, and yes, they see him as an honorary girl, but underneath it all, he's still a fucking guy," Sam tells them furiously. "I would know, after all."

Puck blanches, and Sam can't stop the laugh that escapes. Artie and Mike look vaguely uncomfortable, and Finn's face in buried in his hands, out of embarrassment or disgust, Sam doesn't know.

"You're supposed to be his friends! You stick up for him in front of Karofsky and Azimio and the others, but you can't even accept him for who he is. What kind of friends are you?"

"We..."

"How can you expect the jocks to treat him the way he deserves if his friends can't do the same thing?"

"Now, listen here, Evans, we didn't mean anything by it," Puck says, holding up his hands. "We just didn't think Hummel'd be into playing video games with us."

"Puck, you fucking moron, when you're at the Hummel place, you play on the consoles down in the basement... which is Kurt's room," Sam tells him slowly. "He has his own gaming system, why wouldn't he want to play with us?"

"Well..."

"He fixed your transmission," Sam adds. "And he changed Mike's tyres in the snow. Plus, he was the kicker last year, and from what I've heard and the video clips on YouTube, he's a better player than you lot combined."

"Evans, let it go. It's over. We'll invite your boyfriend in the future."

Sam shakes his head. "I can't be friends with guys who treat another person that way, especially someone I love." He pauses, taking a deep breath, and then he continues after he feels Kurt press a kiss into his chest through the thin material of his t-shirt. "Don't bother inviting me any more of your guys' nights." He pauses, before muttering, "More like assholes' nights, anyway."

"What?"

"We're not friends anymore," Sam explains. "We're still in Glee and football together. We're team-mates, and therefore, I'll be relatively civil, but no more than that. We're not even acquaintances. I don't want you to talk to me unless it's necessary, okay? Just keep away from me. Kurt, too. If I catch one of you harassing him, you'll never know what hits you, okay?"

None of them reply, and Sam smirks when he realises that they're all sort of in shock.

"Mr Schue, Kurt and I won't be attending this lesson. We'll be back next day."

Mr Schue nods slightly, and Sam whisks Kurt out of the room before anyone can say another word.

The room regain their senses quickly, though, because before Sam and Kurt get to the end of the corridor, they hear Mercedes' voice, loud and piercing. "I think I'm gonna have to take someone to the carpet."

"_We're_ gonna have to take someone to the carpet," Santana corrects.

Kurt still looks sad, the lonely, longing look in his eyes, but he's smiling, and even though it doesn't reach his eyes, Sam's confident that he can help it reach them in the future.

* * *

Sam might be a bit slow on the uptake in some matters, but he gets there eventually. He _loves_ Kurt. He's Sam's everything. He'll protect him to the ends of the earth if he has to.


End file.
